


Blessed By Profe

by cloudsgrl



Category: 07-Ghost
Genre: Gen, Headcanon, head canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 12:03:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsgrl/pseuds/cloudsgrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not exactly a walk in the park to grow up in the Krat family or be “blessed by Profe”, but Ilyusha liked to think he was doing alright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blessed By Profe

**Author's Note:**

> I role play Labrador/Ilyusha on tumblr and this is written to explain a head canon of mine, and you’ll probably get a couple more fics filled with my own head canon as I continue to RP and gain more insight to Labrador’s mindset.

When Ilyusha Krat was born, the boy was blind. He grew up in a world of darkness, his other senses magnified. The first words the young lord could recall anyone saying to him was, “You are blessed, Ilyusha. You are blessed by Profe.” But Ilyusha couldn’t quite understand it. He ‘saw’ things, things of people dying, or what would happen the next day. Tiny things, inescapable unimportant things. How was such a thing a ‘blessing’? And he couldn’t see. He couldn’t see the vibrant colors that the plants in the Krat house were said to have. What was the color ‘orange’? And no one he asked was able to describe it to him.  
He could smell the flowers; identify them on their petals textures, the smells emitted from the pistols, the sound their leaves made with the different breezes. He knew their scientific names and learned their medicinal attributes after asking one of the Krat maids to read from the numerous books he knew resided in the library. But knowing these things never made up for the fact he couldn’t see them, he couldn’t see his friends.  
One day he asked one of the butlers, “How does everyone know I’m blessed by Profe?” If it was just because he was blind, the young Krat lord was sure there were many other people who were blind. And he hadn’t heard anything about them being “blessed”.  
“It’s your eyes,” the butler finally responded. “Your pupils are distorted, scratched. And the things you just know about people, how you know certain things will happen. That’s the blessing of Profe. It runs through your blood, my lord.”  
Ilyusha nodded, and accepted the answer. Everyone said the Krat house was made up of descendents of Profe, and Ilyusha couldn’t see his eyes, so he would be unknowledgeable about these things.  
Then the flowers started speaking to him. His only friends, the ones he spent all his free time with, began to communicate with him. It was little things at first, telling him about the weather, or how dinner was going to be the meal he disliked but ate anyway, or how the maids managed to destroy another set of china. These little things were inconsequential, and they offered some levity to the dark and depressing visions Ilyusha was “blessed” with.  
And when Ilyusha was joined by Lem and Lirin, Ilyusha felt happiness inside himself, the kind that came from interacting with others. His eyesight may have been nonexistent, but as long as the young lord remained in the Krat House, he could pretend, at least for a little bit. The flowers would direct his movements, and he could wander as though he hadn’t had the house floor plan memorized, or that maybe at one point he was just as normal as the two children who had become his friends.  
Lirin fell ill, and the flowers urged Ilyusha to remain calm, that a solution would eventually be found. And as always, alongside the visions and prophecies that came true in roundabout, unexplained, dark manners, came this feeling of absolution. His destiny was to be had, and soon. Ilyusha did all he could to help Lirin and Lem, whether it was just letting Lem know that Lirin wouldn’t die too painfully, or that her wishes had been fulfilled already in her young age. But the young Krat lord knew, as sure as he knew he was blind and “blessed by profe” that Lirin wasn’t going to live very much longer. Soon no matter what herbs and plants he managed to harvest for her wasn’t helping, and both Lirin and Lem were suffering. Her illness could not be cured by any normal, mortal means, and that meant her fate was out of their hands.  
Ilyusha was in the garden, listening to the whispers of the flowers, when Lem came running to him. “Ilyusha,” the other boy was completely out of breath, but the young lord knew what he was going to say, “Do you know anything about the Flower of Eden?” The flowers practically sang, their little whispering voices telling Ilyusha, ‘it’s time!’. Ilyusha nodded and offered his best friend a smile, watching the other boy leave with a weight off his shoulders.  
The young Krat turned to the dead plant that sat in the center of the garden. Under no circumstances had the plant grown under Ilyusha’s tender care, but now, Ilyusha knew that the flower would grow. He approached it under the guidance of the other flowers, knowing from his dreams that now the forbidden flower would blossom, that now Lem and Lirin’s sadness and pain would no longer exist. He could hear it, the rose bush growing tall, and a branch rapidly presented itself before him. Ilyusha cut the palm of his hand on a large thorn, wincing as the pain registered in his brain. And he could feel the blood welling in his hand. He turned it over, and listened for the sound of the blood hitting the dead plant. Three drops was all it took for it to gain a voice.  
The Flower of Eden began to grow and bloom, leaves sprouting and the tiniest of blossoms placed their delicate petals in the still bleeding palm of Ilyusha’s hand. He took them tenderly and stepped away from the plant, begging for a few moments before it took the price needed for this gift. He retrieved an envelope and carefully placed the petals inside before asking whoever walked by next to take it to Lem. The maid, judging by the feminine voice, agreed and left the garden, clueless to the price being paid.  
The flowers urged him back to the Flower of Eden, and Ilyusha bid them farewell. He stepped closer to it, and felt the vines and leaves wrap their way around his ankles and legs, a thin like blossom pressing itself to the cut in his hand, taking in Ilyusha’s life blood. Ilyusha’s eyes slid closed, and his body became limp. The Flower had worked its way into his veins, and the Flower had become a part of Ilyusha. The Krat heir was now part of the Flower, and his visions became more potent, more elaborate. The Flower grew around him, became a part of him, and Ilyusha was rooted firmly to the ground, like the flowers around him.  
He wasn’t aware of when he absorbed the maid, and some part of him knew that this was it, he was no longer Ilyusha. He was something different, something no longer human. And a voice filtered in through the static, through the sound of the flowers telling him that he was going to be happy, that the Flower of Eden was blossoming.  
“This plant is a danger to our country,” this voice wasn’t anyone important, but the Flower who was once Ilyusha reached a hand out anyway. Maybe they’d take the petals, maybe they’d help others. But a price would have to be paid. “In the unlikely event that this plant is leaked, all those involved must be disposed of. An isolated boy, those involved are unknown…  
“You… do you know him? Do you know anything?” Ilyusha’s palm opened, and the plant could feel the petals resting in his palm, could feel the way he begged for someone to take his hand.  
“I… I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” the voice of Lem resonated in Ilyusha’s ears, and the plant boy’s heart rent in two. “I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO HE IS…!!” Ilyusha didn’t have to see Lem to know the pain the other had in his heart, or the desperation to pretend to not know who he was, even if he was part plant, part forbidden blossom. Ilyusha, the heir and young lord of the Krat family was no more, and all that remained was a plant with his face. There was no blessing, the entity thought, no such thing as being blessed by Profe. But that didn’t mean he was blessed with happiness.  
And when the plant with Ilyusha’s face was enclosed in ice, he felt nothing. When the body died, he felt nothing. There was nothing left to feel.


End file.
